


love, and what it did to you

by colazitron



Series: 2018 December Holiday Fic Countdown [5]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: (not doing so well at that), Break Up, Character Study, F/M, M/M, allusions to suicide attempt, dealing with mental illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 11:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16871803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: Sonja knows what Even’s going to say the moment he sits down carefully on her bed beside her.





	love, and what it did to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nofeartina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nofeartina/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** I am in no way affiliated with the characters depicted herein or their creators. I made this all up and am sharing it for fun.
> 
>  **A/N:** for Tina, who wanted Sonja's thoughts on Even and Isak. This is more Sonja's thoughts on HER and Even, but. Oops? I hope you'll like it anyway, babe. <3

Sonja knows what Even’s going to say the moment he sits down carefully on her bed beside her.

She’s spent the whole weekend texting back and forth with Emma, trying to calm her down and telling her that “ _it wasn’t anything to do with you”._ That Even’s just like that. “ _He does things like that when he’s angry at me and he probably dragged Isak along. You know what boys are like.”_

She believed that until this moment. Even doesn’t like confrontation, and he can be a downright child about conflict. Bailing on her and dragging his new friend with him doesn’t really seem out of character.

But Even takes a deep breath and sighs, shoulders slumping, and she knows.

“Don’t do this,” she says.

Even's face is so tired when he looks at her.

“This isn't working,” he says.

“Of course it's working,” she counters. “We just need to try a little harder. I know it's been busy with me at the store and you at school, but we can see each other more, or--”

“Sonja,” Even cuts in and runs a hand over his face. “I spent all of Saturday with Isak. I-- I have feelings for him.”

“Wait, you were at home yesterday?” Sonja asks.

Even shoots her a look.

“I tell you that I have feelings for someone else and you concentrate on the fact that I was at home yesterday?”

“Sorry, just-- I called you,” she says. “I thought you were ignoring me because you were with him.”

“I had to think about what I want to do,” he says and then swallows heavily. “And I want to break up.”

Sonja's entire body suddenly feels numb. Numb and tingly at the same time, like she's not connected to it properly.

“Even, come on,” she says. “Think about this for a second.”

“I have, Sonja. I've thought about it a lot. I want to see where these feelings for Isak go.”

He's blushing a bit every time he mentions him. He looks so much like the Even she remembers from when they first started going out, open and excited, that it makes her angry. It makes her sad too, because the last time Even did this it ended in absolute misery.

“It won't go anywhere, Even, you know that.”

Just like that his face shuts down again.

Sonja sighs.

“Fine. Go see where it leads. And when it doesn't go anywhere, you'll be right back here. Because you and I _do_ work. You just don't want to do any actual work for it.”

 

That was Monday. On Thursday afternoon he's back, looking exhausted and sad and small.

“You were right,” he says. “I'm sorry.”

She wraps him in a hug and holds him close, wishes for the 100 th  time there was something she could do to protect him from how big his emotions get, from how they keep playing him and always end up making him sad.

“Come on,” she says gently and pulls him into her bedroom, lets him swaddle himself under her duvet, his forehead pressed to the side of her leg while she sits up and catches up on some reading.

“Emma invited me to a party tomorrow. We should go,” she says after a while.

Even sighs heavily and she feels a little cruel for bringing Emma up, but Even does need friends at school.

“Okay,” he says quietly and snuggles a little closer, shadows deep on his face. Sonja leans down to press a kiss to his forehead and then runs her fingers through his hair as she goes back to reading. He falls asleep.

 

On Friday they go to the party, and even though Even does a great impression of a charming person having the time of his life at this party, Sonja knows him. She knows the tense line of his shoulders, and the exhausted slump of his back every time he thinks no one's looking at him. She kisses him and he kisses her back. He doesn't drink any beer and dutifully stays by her side. She wants to believe that this is a good thing so badly. That he's putting in the work because he wants things to be good between them too. Every time he smiles at her and every time he kisses her back she tries to make herself believe it.

She doesn't quite manage.

They go home together and fall asleep in the same bed.

 

On Saturday he breaks up with her again over coffee at her kitchen table.

Sonja laughs.

“Have you found another boy?” she asks. It's cruel, and she wants to take it back immediately, but for once Even looks at her with only gentleness when she says it.

“It's not about anyone else,” he says. “This isn't working. Not for me. This – you and me – it's not good for me. And I've certainly not been good to you, either.”

Sonja swallows heavily and shakes her head. She can't-- she can't lose Even.

“We can be better, Even,” she says, begs almost, but there's a new kind of solidity on his face.

“Sonja, I need to figure out who I am now. Not how to be who I was. I can't be that person anymore. You barely let me breathe. You have to let me move on.”

It hits Sonja like a slap in the face.

“Fuck you,” she says and gets up from the table.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean--”

“No, you know what? Fine. Leave. Be a different person. I'm _letting you go_. Just make sure to tell precious Isak what to expect or you'll fuck him over too,” she spits, vicious with anger and hurt and the dizzying realisation that this is it. He really isn't coming back this time.

She slams the door to the bathroom behind herself and doesn't cry until she's in the shower. When she comes back out, he's gone, leaving behind nothing but a silly little drawing of a bouquet of flowers and the words “I'm sorry”.

She crumples it up and throws it out.

 

She tries to bury it at first. Alternately tells herself that she's better off without someone who doesn't want to be with her and that Even will come back like he always does.

It doesn't even occur to her to talk to Isak until Even texts her, out of the blue, almost two weeks later, to thank her. It'd be an innocuous enough text, just another apology and a thank you for all she's done for him, how happy he can be now because of what they've been through together. From anyone else, Sonja might think it's awkward and weird, but nothing else.

From Even, it makes her alarm bells ring.

She calls Emma.

“Do you still have Isak's phone number?” she asks when Emma picks up.

“Isak? Why do you need Isak?” Emma asks.

Sonja sighs.

“Please, I just need to talk to him. Do you still have it?”

“You're lucky I never delete phone numbers,” Emma says. “I'll send it to you in a bit. But, hey, do you wanna hang out some time?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Thanks,” Sonja says and stays on the line a little longer than she meant to.

 

She calls during school hours, hopes to catch Isak when he's not with Even or maybe even in class. She'll leave him a message.

But instead Even picks up and tells her not to call Isak again.

Fuck that.

Sonja calls again later, and then sends a text, but by the time Isak calls her back, in the middle of the night, it's too late. Sonja knows it when she sees his name on the display of her phone after midnight, and she knows it the moment she hears his thin, scared voice. She's not even angry as she flies out of bed, slips into clothes and grabs her jacket and purse as she dashes out the door of her flat.

She flags down a taxi and calls Even's parents and only then, when all the necessary steps have been taken does she start to feel the anger.

Why didn't Even tell Isak? Why didn't Even recognise what was happening? Why did he have to fall so fast so hard? Why did Isak not back off when he found out about her? Why couldn't Isak just--

“Stay away! Please!”

She doesn't mean to bump into him as she storms past him to grab the taxi a couple just got out of behind him, but she also doesn't really care. There's a tiny voice in the far corner of her mind that points out how utterly terrified Isak looked and that she's maybe being unfair, but it's drowned out by the messy anger and relief and sorrow in her head. Her heart's beating against her chest like hummingbird wings; she's exhausted and scared. She can't do this again. She barely held on last time.

In the taxi, she calls Malin again, but gives her own address.

“Hi, Sonja, did you get home okay?” Malin asks her.

“I'm just on my way,” Sonja says. “I was on my way to the hotel, in case you hadn't found him yet.”

“You didn't need to do that,” Malin says gently. “But thank you. Did you see Isak, by any chance?”

“Yeah, I saw him. I told him Even's fine,” Sonja says.

“Alright, thank you. We don't have his number, and since Even doesn't have any of his things…”

Sonja hums a vague noise and stares out of the window.

“I'll call you tomorrow, alright? But everything's fine. Try to get some sleep.”

Sonja doesn't think she's going to be able to sleep, her mind and body on high alert, but by the time she gets home she barely makes it to her bed and falls into a deep sleep the moment her head touches her pillow.

 

It takes her five seconds to remember what happened when she wakes up the following morning, and before she's even formed a coherent thought about it, she bursts into tears.

Even could have-- he could have gotten _hurt_. Seriously hurt! If she hadn't tried calling Isak, if Isak hadn't had anyone to call, would he have known what to do? His small voice and terrified face flit through her mind and she cries a fresh bout of tears for both of them.

How could Even do this to her? To both of them. How dare he be so selfish. How dare he put himself at risk like that. How dare he scare her so much. Them.

She can hear her flatmates puttering about in the kitchen, and when she gets her breathing back under control, she grabs her phone to check the time.

It's only about nine, not as late as she assumed.

She sits up in bed and wipes off her cheeks, hugs her knees to her chest under the duvet and calls her mother.

“Hi honey! What's up?” Mum greets her, cheerful as ever.

Sonja squeezes her eyes and mouth shut tight against a fresh wave of tears and tries to will them back down.

“Sonja? Everything okay?” Mum asks.

“Can I come over?” Sonja presses out. Even to her own ears her voice sounds brittle and small.

“Of course you can come over. Anytime. Honey, are you okay?”

“It's fine. I'll-- I'll explain when I'm there, okay?” she says, and barely waits for her mum to say 'okay' back before she hangs up. She pulls on clothes more or less at random, gets dressed for comfort rather than anything else, pulls yesterday's jeans and jumper on over the underwear and t-shirt she slept in. She doesn't care. She just needs--- she needs a hug. She needs her mum. She needs someone to help her make sense of this.

She mumbles something at her flatmates about visiting her mum and then walks to the tram on autopilot, concentrating on keeping her mind empty more than on anything else. She doesn't want to be that girl who's full on sobbing in public.

Mum pulls her into a hug the moment she steps through the door.

Sonja drops her purse and her shoulders, slumps against her mother and lets the tears fall.

“Honey, what happened? Please, you have to tell me what's going on so I can help you.”

Sonja shakes her head against her mother's shoulder and then lifts her arms to hug her back, clinging onto her back and trying her best to get herself under control enough so she can speak.

“Even. He had-- he had another episode,” she presses out.

“Oh my god. Is he hurt? Are you hurt?” Mum asks, squeezing her a little tighter.

Sonja shakes her head again, this time in answer to her mum's question.

“Okay. Okay, that's good. It'll be fine, honey. It'll pass,” she mumbles, stroking her hand over Sonja's hair.

Sonja sobs again, face wet with tears and snot and squeezes her eyes shut, wishing she could just hide here with her mum forever.

“I did everything I could! I tried so hard to help him fight it, to keep it as small as possible, so he could-- so he could be---”

She doesn't really know how to finish that sentence, and her tears don't let her anyway, tearing another sob from deep inside her chest.

“Oh, honey, you can't fight this for him,” Mum says. “This is a part of him. You can't make it go away.”

Mum kisses her hair again and rocks her a little more. Sonja tries to keep the words she feels push at her throat down, tries to not even think them, because she knows once she says them she'll know it's true, but--

“He doesn't love me anymore,” she cries. “Mum, what do I do?”

“Oh, honey,” mum says, rocking them side to side and holding her tightly. She hums a few soothing noises and presses kisses to Sonja's hair and Sonja cries and cries until it feels like she's never going to stop and then a little more. Until it does stop.

Her head feels swollen, and her face is bloated, and sticky, and gross. But mum waits until she's calmed down before pulling her along gently to sit on the sofa and handing her a box of tissues.

“What happened?” Mum asks, so Sonja tells her.

 

Malin texts later to let her know that Even has crashed, but he's fine. That they went to get his things from the hotel and she doesn't have to worry.

Sonja stays with her mum all weekend, moving not much more than between the couch, her old bed, and the bathroom.

She keeps thinking about what Even said. About not letting him breathe and having to move on. She doesn't think it was fair of him to blame that on her – he's pushed her away and chased after her more than she cares to count over the past year – but she does think he was right. They kept trying to pretend that if they did everything right then they wouldn't have to deal with what happened. To him. To them. To her.

They do need to let each other go.

 

On Tuesday, she goes to visit him.

He doesn't get out of bed, doesn't even really look at her for more than a few seconds, but that's okay. She didn't come for a conversation. She knew she wouldn't get one.

“You were right,” she says as she sits down on his bed, legs dangling down the ladder. “We don't work anymore. Never meant to-- to hurt you, and to make you feel. I don't know. However I made you feel. I just wanted to help, but I didn't do it right.”

His room is tidy, like Malin probably tidied it up for him so he'd have a clean room to be in. It's supposed to help. Sonja thinks she'd probably just feel guilty if her mum tidied her room for her while she couldn't get out of bed, but what does she know. She doesn't know what Even feels.

“But you were a jerk too,” she goes on, stubbornly looking out the window at the bare tree in front of it. She's always loved that tree. “You never-- we never talked about what it was like for me. Last year. You have no idea what it feels like, Even, to get a call that the boy you're in love with tried to--- that---”

She breaks off and takes a shuddery breath, wipes at her cheeks angrily.

“Anyway, it doesn't matter now. I forgive you. Okay?” she says and looks over at him huddled under the duvet.

He meets her eyes for a second and she tries to smile.

“I forgive you,” she repeats, and he closes his eyes, “but don't do that to Isak. Don't--- pretend. And don't ghost him like you did your friends. Just. Learn something from this whole mess, okay? You owe me that. And yourself. And probably Isak. People love you, Even. Let them. Or, I don't know. Tell them how.”

She sighs a deep sigh and sits for a minute, waiting to feel the urge to say anything else. There's really only one thing left.

“I'm going to go now,” she announces, and grabs the rungs of his bed to climb back down to the floor. “Goodbye, Even.”

She reaches up through the slats to grab his hand that sticks out from under the duvet for a moment as she passes him, but she doesn't linger. If she does, she's only going to cry again.

He squeezes her hand back.

Then they let go.

 

She loses count of how many times she picks up the phone to call Isak to apologise for the way she blew up at him on Friday, pettily remembers that he never apologised for kissing her boyfriend, and puts it back down again. It's childish, probably, but she can't help it.

On Saturday morning, she doesn't give herself time to think about it, just finds his contact and presses call.

His voice when he picks up is quiet, and nervous, but by no means scared. She's a little surprised to find that she's glad. She's equally surprised to find that when she apologises, he waves her off. He sounds genuinely surprised, and she's not sure what to do with that. She doesn't really know how to give him the advise he wants from her either, doesn't even understand why he's asking when she's sure Even can't have painted a favourable picture of her – and neither did she herself. She never quite knew how to love Even right, apparently, but her heart squeezes tight at the way Isak asks – nervous and halting, but so hopeful. She thinks of Even's bashful excitement when he spoke about Isak a few weeks ago, thinks of Isak's devastated confusion when she saw him last week.

Suddenly, she really hopes that they'll be fine.

She's not sure she has any advise to give about Even, but her mum's advise about getting back on her feet is still fresh in her mind, so she tells Isak that.

“Just take it one day at a time.”

When she hangs up, she feels light, even though there are fresh tears in her eyes. It's going to hurt for a little longer, but she's going to be fine.

She hopes that Even will too. That Isak and Even will. Somehow, she's got a good feeling.

 

**The End**


End file.
